It Started with Ginger
by apexeditor8
Summary: Ah, the gilded age of 17. James and Margot's futures are bright, promising… and terrifyingly imminent. Their final years at Hogwarts have been passing in a blur of Quidditch-school-friends-more Quidditch just to keep up with it all, and only now  you're saying that it's fine to slow down and… live a little? ...take a nap? ...flirt? Please hold for yet another existential crisis.
1. Chapter 1: Margot

**August 2nd, 2021  
****Grinnell Hall**

**Dear Max,**

**Hhhhhhh feel free to say ew if you want, but... I miss you. We got back from France two weeks ago, and I know Grinnell's quiet, but it's been... **_**quiet**_**. Dad's gone back to work, and mum's not even around to nag since she's been at Aunt Tori's for the fundraiser, so it's just been me and Gus holding down the fort. **

**Quidditch season is starting up soon, I guess, so I've been practicing a bit, but not much. Did you know that Scorpius is quitting the team? You must, he owls you for anything more important than his morning breakfast. So thanks for the heads up, traitor. I get that his OWLs are this year, and he's already very invested in his future, which is really very admirable. But the dweeb can't even take a break from his internship to hoopkeep for me! Like, excuse me, I **_**made**_** him. Ugh, if you were here then I'd at least have you to practice with, even if you'd probably just complain about my form. **

**How's Bulgaria? Home's as mild and windy as ever, but I guess it'd be a bit colder in the mountains, yeah? I hope you and Teddy Lupin aren't goading each other to do polar plunges in a lake again. Wear a proper jacket, you idiot. I know you said it'll probably take a while to explore that castle, but I hope you finish your expedition soon. I haven't seen you since the Cup Finals at school. **

**Write me back when you're back in civilization.**

**Love,**

**MG**

Margot stretched her back with a yawn while quickly reading through the letter. She'd woken up early that morning, settling down to write even before the sun properly peeked over the horizon. Although light rays were now streaming in low through her open bedroom window, they were still accompanied by cool tendrils of early morning mist, and she crinkled her nose as a particularly chilly breeze blew in. It might have been the height of the summer, but mornings in Northumbria still required a bit of padding. It was a long walk to the post owls in the barn.

Margot stewed in her bed covers for a good ten minutes longer before she could finally pull herself from her sheets. Shivering and sleepy, she dug through her wardrobe for warmer clothes, silently cursing her older brother for working so far away. Finally though, she carefully tucked the envelope into the pocket of an oversized old robe before slipping out of the door.

The house was quiet, Margot noted. Living in a house with old wooden floors, it was always easy to track her family's movements throughout the rooms, and as she padded down the upstairs hallway, her footsteps were noticeably solitary that morning.

At the bottom of the stairs she was greeted by her family's French bulldog, Gustave, sprawled on the entry hall rug. At the sound of her approach, he immediately sprung up, his tail wagging excitedly, and he followed her as she navigated to the back of the house towards the mudroom.

In the kitchen, the pair ran into one of the home's two houselves, Pippa, whistling as she stoked the fire in the large stone cooking hearth.

"Morning, Pippa. Has everyone already left?" Margot greeted with a yawn.

"Good morning, Miss Margot!" the house-elf pipped, tossing a hefty log into the fireplace. "Mmmm, Missus Beauregard has stayed with Missus Malfoy for until the weekend, Pippa thinks, but Mister Beauregard flooed to London not 15 minutes ago!"

Margot looked at the heavy brass clock hanging above the kitchen mantelpiece. Quarter past seven. That'd be the third time this week her father's gone to the Ministry so early in the morning. In a week's time, London would be hosting the European Magical Union's (EMU) annual conference, and as an ambassador, Sebastian Beauregard and his office had become incredibly busy as of late. Margot had barely seen him since their family returned from their holiday to Aix-en-Provance last month.

She hadn't seen much of her mum lately either. Margot briefly considered flooing to Wiltshire, if only to have some other people around. But her mum and Aunt Astoria would likely be too wrapped up in event planning to offer much company. In conjunction with the conference next week, Malfoy Manor was hosting a charity art auction for the Ministry and visiting delegates.

Margot wanted company, not busy work. And besides, Scorpius wouldn't even be at home. Her studious cousin had spent most of his summer at the Ministry after earning a prestigious internship with the one and only Harry Potter at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Margot sighed. Maybe her best friend, Avery would write back soon. Margot sent a post three days ago asking to stay at the Warwick's London home, but their family had also gone on holiday recently, and she was unsure if they'd returned to the city yet.

Summers used to be so much more fun when Max still lived at home.

"Mmm, I guess I'm off to walk Gustave then," Margot sighed, fetching a leash from the mudroom.

"Pippa will have breakfast ready for when you return, Miss!"

Margot had to admit. The past few weeks at her family's home had been pretty lonely, but at least it was a _pretty_ lonely place.

Grinnell Hall was the historical seat of the Greengrass family, passed down to Margot's mother, Daphne, who along with her younger sister, Astoria, had been the last Greengrasses by name before they married. The pretty two-story grey stone manor was built on a lush green hill on the cool Northumberland coast. Margot trekked behind Gus along a trail leading away from the main house, following a high ridge that overlooked the surrounding area.

From the distance, soft bleating punctuated the morning air. The Greengrass ancestors had been shepherds, and so the family had always maintained a healthy flock of sheep on their estate, along with a dozen or so heads of cattle, and the herds grazed openly on the hills to the west of the house. Three hundred yards downhill on Margot's right began the sand dunes which marked a short stretch of beach that buffered the house to the North Sea. Though it was usually too blustery on the Northern English coast to enjoy a proper beach day, Margot frequently took Gus on walks there just to watch him yelp at the small sea creatures and bits of seaweed that washed up on shore. There was a lovely view down the coast along this ridge, and on clear days, you could see the butte of Lindisfarne from the windows on the east side of the home.

The ridge trail curved left, and the pair followed it, turning away from the sea and meandering downhill towards a cluster of small buildings which housed the barn and stables. At the bottom of the hill, Margot leaned down and unclasped Gustave's leash, and he trotted off towards the stables. Gus was terrified of the post owls, probably because his ears likened him to a very pudgy black rabbit which the owls were keen to pick up on.

In the barn, Margot quickly spotted Freya quietly preening in the corner rafters. Margot blew two short whistles, and the owl swooped down without so much as a ruffle. Freya was a barn owl with a pretty heart-shaped face, the sharpest and fastest of the lot, and she had been her brother Max's favorite when he was still in school. Margot hummed, knowing he'd probably be happy to see a familiar face from home.

Freya patiently held out the carrier on her leg as Margot carefully fastened the letter.

"Sorry to send you to the continent…" Margot said apologetically, sealing the carrier. Although Freya was fast, it would still take her a good few days to reach the mountains on the southern border of Bulgaria where her brother was currently camped with his team of Curse Breakers.

"Just tell Max he owes you a dozen or so owl treats, yeah?"

Freya returned Margot's sly smirk with a curt nip at her fingers before taking off through the barn door and into the lightening morning sky. Margot walked after her, spending a few moments watching the bird slowly sink into the distance. Max would likely keep the owl for a few days rest before sending her back, and so she knew not to expect a response until at least next week.

A small kerfuffle was echoing from the stables. From the sound of it, Margot guessed that Gus was pestering the horses yet again. Though the tiny bulldog was frightened of most birds, he apparently had no fear when it came to mammals a dozen times his size. So it was absolutely no surprise at all when she found him yelping animatedly at the largest mare her mother kept in the barn. Margot hustled in quickly to fetch him before he got kicked in the face.

"Would you stop trying the fight the horses?" she berated exasperatedly as Gus wiggled in her arms, "You and I both know that they're mum's favorite kids."

But the bulldog was apparently bounding with energy that morning, yipping at her feet as soon as she set him down outside. Margot thought it might be necessary to take him on a bit of a walk to cool him down. And it wasn't like she had anything else to do that morning anyway.

Together, they took a long and pleasant walk through the paths that wound through the estate. It was nice for Margot because she got some fresh air and exercise in at the start of her day. It was nice for Gus because he found some more unsuspecting animals several times his size (sheep, cows) that he could bark at.

So it was not until a quarter to nine that Margot was finally lugging one exhausted bulldog back up the steep incline to the house. Gus had finally conked out after an ill-fated chase after a group of polecats, and Margot had resorted to carrying him around in her arms like a baby. Hhh. And Max called _her_ spoiled.

At the top of the ridge, Margot dropped Gus on the ground, and he barked at her happily before cantering up to the house. Margot took a few moments to regain her breath - either she was _really_ out of season for quidditch, or they really needed to start watching that dog's diet.

As she looked out over the incoming morning tide, she spotted a small dark dot gliding in slowly towards her. She furrowed her brows, at first mistaking the owl for Freya, returning way too early to have made her delivery. But as the bird flew closer, she noted the figure was too big to be a barn owl.

"Oh," Margot said with recognition, as she identified the bird to be Pel, the handsome eagle owl Avery had been gifted for her birthday last winter.

Gracefully landing on the path before her, Pel blinked at Margot expectantly, holding out the leather carrier bound to his leg. As soon as she retrieved the letter, the owl wasted no time swooping over her to head towards the barn, presumably to help himself to some owl treats before making the return journey back to London.

Margot ripped open the seal and read Avery's short, hastily scribbled letter as she walked up the path towards the house.

**Mar,**

**Sorry for the late reply. We've just caught a Portkey in from Stockholm this evening. You sound miserable. Pack a bag and floo to mine asap, we can go for ice cream at Fortescue's, yeah? I've got post-holiday tea to spill. Nellie will greet you if I'm still asleep!**

**ADW**

Margot let out a short whoop, passing through the kitchen threshold. Oh, thank Merlin. She was saved!

* * *

**August 3rd, 2021  
****Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor**

It was with annoyance that Margot reached up to wipe the dripping sweat from her brow for the third time in the past five minutes. It turned out that London had been facing a much balmier summer than the North, the hottest on record apparently, and everyone was starting to reckon the Muggles were onto something with that whole global warming idea. Behind them, the Fortescue's storefront was packed with witches and wizards trying to beat the heat, and in the late afternoon business rush, the only seats Margot and Avery had been able to snag were outside on the patio.

Despite the weather, the pair had been having a fairly enjoyable afternoon in wizarding London. They had spent most of the morning in the bright solarium of the Warwick's South Kensington home, lazing around and catching up on Witch Weekly and Which Witch gossip columns. After lunch, at the behest of Mrs. Warwick, the pair were slowly coaxed from the permanent indentations they'd left in the plush armchairs and out into the city, finally making their way to Charing Cross.

They'd spent the past few hours ambling around the stores in Diagon Alley. Hogwarts had yet to send out the supply lists for the upcoming school year, so they perused with less purpose than usual. After they made their usual stop to Flourish and Blotts for some new quills and stationery, Margot picked up some new gloves at Quality Quidditch Supply. To her delight, in one of the corner thrift shops, she had also found a vintage Weird Sisters t-shirt that she planned to send to Max as a belated birthday present once Freya had returned. Really, the most intensive part of their afternoon had come when Avery couldn't decide between a dark blue spangled frock and a lilac tea dress for an upcoming family function. In the end, she ended up happily walking out of Twilfitt and Tatting's with both in hand.

Now the two girls had their shopping bags piled around their feet as they sat in the sun, sweating nearly as much as the ice cream floats sitting on the counter in front of them. Over the railing, the main thoroughfare of Diagon Alley swam with people. The working day was just ending for most wizards with office jobs, and throngs of people streamed by either on their way home or on their way to the pubs for post-work pick-me-ups.

"Just think. That'll be us in a few years," Margot said, nodding towards a particularly deflated-looking wizard in St. Mungo's robes and about seven layers of under-eye bags.

"Amendment- I'll probably end up more like her," Avery pointed toward a frazzled witch, who'd just stumbled out of the Daily Prophet office carrying seven coffees in one hand and a precariously high pile of newspapers in the other.

The friends shared a dispirited laugh. They were only half-joking, really. Due to start their sixth year and their NEWT classes in less than a months time, the two Slytherins had been increasingly pressed to consider their future careers as of late. Despite only being 16 years old, they had barely two years left before they were released into the world as full adults, and that was enough to fill any teenager with dread. Although they might be working magical jobs in the magical community, a job could still be as draining as any other, as the faces on most of the tired-looking professionals passing by reminded them.

"What are you two looking so gloomy for?"

Rowan Selwyn, a willowy girl who styled her short, dark hair into finger waves dropped down on the seat beside them. She was one of the girls who shared a dorm with Margot and Avery at school, and she regarded the pair curiously.

"Just contemplating the crushing realities of our looming adulthoods," Margot dead-panned back.

"Ah, that'll do it."

Margot and Avery continued looking despondent, and Rowan chuckled breezily at them. "Come now, I'm sure your summers haven't all been so dismal."

"I'm sixteen. My life is all crisis," Avery said, dropping her chin onto her palm.

"Fair enough. But I'm sure you've been having far more glamorous breaks than me, seeing as I've been stuck in London since June. What have you lot been up to? Beauregard, you were in France again, yeah?"

Margot hummed, "Visiting family. Mostly my cousins just took the mickey out of me for my French accent, though, so I can't say it was really _glamorous_ per se."

"You went with your parents, right?"

"Yeah, we went to my dad's mum's."

"And… your brother? He come along as well?"

Margot narrowed her eyes at the girl before slowly shaking her head no.

"Ah, I see," Rowan said, swirling around the condensed liquid that had pooled on the table from their drinks. After a moment, she prodded with only the most thinly veiled interest, "...What's Max up to then?"

Avery snorted into her ice cream, "Subtle. Haven't you got a boyfriend, Selwyn?"

Rowan flicked water at her with a smirk, "I'm expressing friendly interest, not snogging him."

Margot rolled her eyes in annoyance, but only half serious about it. Though he had graduated over three years ago, it wasn't a secret that a number of upper-year Slytherin girls, including some of her own dorm-mates, maintained a vested interest in her older brother. For whatever reason.

...Well. Margot supposed he'd been pretty popular, being the captain of the house quidditch team and all. And he did have the whole world-trotting Curse Breaker thing going for him… She guessed she had to admit - Max was objectively the cooler sibling of the two of them… _probably_. But she was still their house elf Pippa's favorite.

"He's been in Bulgaria since May working on an expedition for Gringott's," Margot conceded as she handed Avery a napkin, "And before you ask, no, I have no idea when he'll be back to visit."

"Bulgaria? That's quite remote... probably hard to be dating anyone, yeah?"

Margot wrinkled her nose, giving her friend a hard stare, "If I say he's in a mad affair with Teddy Lupin, will you stop asking me about him?"

"Oh please, Lupin and Victoire Weasley are all but engaged," Rowan said with a matter-of-fact smirk, "Thank you for the other intel though. It's nice to keep updated."

"Why not harass the one who's actually got decent gossip?" Margot said tiredly, jerking her head at Avery.

Rowan quirked her eyebrows, turning to the girl in question, "Is that so, Warwick? What bring you to the table?"

Avery didn't answer right away, instead making a production out of wiping her shirt of the water Rowan had flicked on her. But Margot knew that she was just taking some time to rile up her audience. Avery was a rather… accomplished story teller. When she really got into the spirit of things, she and Rowan could (and often did) exchange gossip for hours on end. This was especially true now given how, as Avery regaled Margot last night, she was fresh off of a summer affair.

"My family's just got back from holiday in Sweden this week... We stayed with Bazzy Whitby at his family's summer house outside of Stockholm," Avery began casually, but pausing for a reaction, smirking when Rowan didn't disappoint.

"..._Bazzy Whitby? _The drummer for _Nine Sickles?_ ...Damn, Warwick, I knew you'd have something good… What's your connect?"

"Dad goes way back with him when he was starting out with the radio business," the girl boasted, "He gave them their first spins on his very first channel operating out of his 7th year dorm room… I guess even back then he had a good ear."

Nowadays Mr. Warwick, along with Avery's two older brothers, ran some of the most popular programming on wizarding radio. Margot had just listened to him introduce the top 40 over the wireless this morning.

"...Bazzy brought his family along, too, to keep me and Daniel company, which was great seeing as I don't speak a lick of Swedish," Avery continued, "So, I ended up asking the eldest Whitby if he fancied being my tour guide."

She paused again, pushing her long olive brown hair back before leaning forward to take a long sip of her float. She was enjoying his immensely, Margot could see.

"...And…? Out with it already, Warwick."

"And. So. Going to museums and cafes and record stores is fun and all, but you can only do that for so long. Our parents are out sailing all day, and eventually, you have to find... _other ways _to entertain yourself, you know? … And what can I say, Alastair Whitby apparently found my lips to be particularly fascinating."

Avery finished with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders, and Margot shook her head amusedly at her. Rowan was scrunching her face, trying to put a face to the name.

"...Alastair… Oh, in Ravenclaw? He's got a tongue piercing, right?"

"That's the one," Avery said cheerfully, shooting her a wink.

"Huh," Rowan said, nodding her head thoughtfully, "I had no idea he was related to punk rock royalty… although I do see the resemblance now."

"He's certainly got that patented Bazzy Whitby broodiness down," Margot quipped, trying to remember the last time she'd seen Alastair's eyes behind his long curtain of fringe.

Rowan snorted, batting her arm appreciatively, "He's charming! In a bad boy kind of way... So you're together then, are you, Wickham?"

Avery shrugged noncommittally, "Oh. Well, no, not exactly... He's lovely, but the tongue piercing is a bit much to deal with for a long-term relationship."

Margot grinned into her float. Her best friend had never really been one for long-term relationships, period. Regardless of the other person's tongue.

"Ah, I see…" Rowan said slowly, squinting her eyes at her, "Well, you know I don't quite get your bit with... _'undefined' _relationships… But I can respect it."

"Ah, well you know I don't quite get your bit with... _'dating the same boy since we were literally 13'_… But I can respect it," Avery mimicked back cheekily.

Rowan opened her mouth, looking ready to retort again, but instead just clicked her tongue in assent.

"...Touche. How'd Bazzy Jr. take it then?"

Back at the dorm, Margot's two roommates could spend nearly as much time bantering as they did gossiping, but she could tell Rowan was rather invested in the latter today. Avery was smirking gleefully as she replied - she loved winning word wars with Rowan.

"Oh, don't worry, he was fine! ...Well, I suppose he kind of sulked around for a bit afterwards. But he was doing that for most of the trip anyway, so I just assumed he was back to his normal self."

"Careful, Aves. He might just pick up a guitar and bang out an angry song or two about you," Margot said cooly sipping her float.

"Ooh, that could be quite romantic actually," Rowan added, "At the very least, if he gets famous like his dad you'd have bragging rights for years."

"'Oh yes, I am _the_ 'Bitch Who Hates Tongue Piercings'... No, I'm _quite_ flattered Alastair would name a song after me… Sure, I'll sign your album for you…!'"

Avery maturely stuck her tongue out at her snickering friends before narrowing her eyes at Margot.

"Maybe I'll file my application for the Margot Beauregard Heartbreakers Association then."

Rowan was still wiping tears from her eyes when she shifted her gaze to Margot.

"What's all that now, Beauregard," she said laughingly, "You break up with Ro-Ro, too?"

Margot furrowed her eyebrows at the slender girl before nodding her head slowly, "...Did you not know? But I thought Lucien had babbled to half the year already during that bonfire party in June."

Immediately Rowan's expression sobered as her eyes widened in understanding, "... _Oh my god,_ I thought Zabini was _joking…!"_

"Well, his sense of humor can be a little illusive at times-"

"But you mean to say, that _you and Roman Pucey broke up?"_

"Well, yes."

"What? How? _When."_

Avery snorted, "She dumped him on the Hogwarts Express."

Margot shot her a pointed look, "That makes it seem so harsh. I was only trying to be direct about it. And I didn't _dump_ him. We had a conversation; it was basically mutual-"

"Mar, you told him the relationship wasn't worth your effort."

"..."

"..."

"...Well yes, but it was only true."

"Holy shit, Beauregard," Rowan said, gaping amazedly at her.

"It wasn't in so few words," Margot defended, "I have a small bit of tact."

While it was true that her and Roman Pucey's five month long relationship hadn't been spectacular, at the very least, it been very reasonable. It had been her first real relationship, but she slipped into it quite naturally. She and Roman liked quidditch, both being chasers on the house team. _Reasonable_. He was attractive, well-dressed, and well-spoken. _Reasonable_. Their mums got along spectacularly well and even had tea together a few times. _Reasonable_.

And that's the way Roman liked things in his life. Reasonable. Easy. Uncomplicated. He was a year ahead of her, in the midst of his NEWT courses, but he hardly ever concerned himself with his school work. The Puceys were a very well off wizarding family, and he liked to say that his future was secured by a well-stocked Gringott's vault. Thus, he was often perplexed by Margot's frequent fretting over her OWL results.

"_Mar-Mar, does it really matter if you get an 'Outstanding' or an 'Exceeds Expectations' for Transfiguration?"_

"_Seeing as Selwyn only lets in 'Outstanding' students for NEWTs, it certainly does."_

"_So, you don't take NEWT Transfig… It's a bore of a class anyway from what I hear from Oscar…"_

"_So? __**And so **__no Transfig means no Healer school."_

"_Would skipping that really be that big of a deal? From the way I see things, people like __**us**__ barely need to work… I mean, obviously it wouldn't be for a while, but rest assured, my family's coffers should keep us quite content if we got married…"_

"_..."_

"_..."_

"_..."_

"_Mar?"_

"_...We… really… have got very different ideas about our futures, haven't we?"_

Anyone who knew Margot well knew that she'd been dead set on becoming a Healer since third year. More importantly, she had an inexplicable stubborn streak over the topic (as her mother knew particularly well). She'd thought that Roman would have known better. And honestly, was it really her fault if the boy didn't seem to have a decent ounce of Slytherin ambition in his body?

"In any case, he's graduating this year, and we're clearly going in different trajectories. Soon enough he'll be taking off on his friend's yachts on the Mediterranean, and I'll be, oh you know... crying my way through Healer school. I just don't think it'll work out," Margot said with a dull smile.

"... You really are something else, Margot."

"That's what my mum said too. She was more broken up about it than I was."

"Your brother hardly ever dates anyone - can you really blame the woman for getting her hopes up about you?"

Margot scoffed derisively, "Max is 21. He should be taking as much time for himself as he wants. And besides. As if I'd be finding my future spouse at _Hogwarts_."

To punctuate her point, she nodded her head toward a rowdy group of teenage boys just exiting Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Even from a few storefronts down, their boisterous laughter rang clear down the street. One of them, who she recognized from quidditch as Kian Wilkinson, a Gryffindor 6th year, had hung a pair of extendible ears from his left nostril.

"...Fair point," Avery said, eyeing the group of boys disparagingly.

From a few streets down, the massive clock atop Gringott's Bank began signaling the hour - 6 o'clock. The air had cooled significantly since they had first sat down, and their seats were now shaded by the lengthening shadows of the closely packed buildings. Rowan looked up surprisedly at the ringing of the clock.

"Damn, it's six already? I told my uncle I'd meet him in front of the bank on the hour," she said, hurriedly collecting her things. She offered them a grin as she hopped off her stool.

"I'm sorry to hear about your break ups. But also? Congrats? Cheers to you lot for having clear 6th years ahead."

Margot and Avery simultaneously lifted their glasses.

"Hear, hear."

Rowan winked at them, "I'll see you both at school then!"

"Sure. Good seeing you, Rowan."

"Find us on the Express!"

They watched for a moment as their friend hurried from the patio and disappeared into the crowd.

"We should be about heading home too, Mar. Mum wants us home by 7 for dinner."

So the pair gathered up their shopping bags, and together they followed the road back up to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

_Oh, heck. This is the first fanfic I've published in years! Next chapter with James will be posted ~quite~ soon. I hope you all enjoy as much as I've been enjoying writing it the past few months~ _


	2. Chapter 2: James

**August 8th, 2021  
****12 Grimmauld Place**

"Uh oh. Dad, I think a stray Malfoy followed you home from the Ministry again," James called from the top of the stairs, spotting a familiar platinum blonde head seated at the dining room table.

His brother Albus turned to James as he cantered down the staircase, his withering gaze intensified by the bright emerald hue of his bespectacled eyes. "Very funny, James. _I _invited Scorp for dinner."

"_Oh no, _and he's trekked in another Slytherin, too. Godric, we may have an infestation on our hands," James declared with a horrified look, though he didn't bother hiding his jovial tone. Reaching the pair, he reached out and ruffled the two boys' hair, knocking their heads together.

"Only joking, Scorp," James said, flashing the younger boy a broad grin as he came around the other side of the table. "But really, isn't your mother missing you? I think I've seen you around more than Lily this week."

"She's been busy setting the house up for the fundraiser tomorrow..." Scorpius began explaining. Scorpius's dad been appointed the Senior Finance Secretary under Aunt Hermione at the Ministry just last year. The Malfoys had graciously accommodated a number of events in their stately home in Wiltshire since then, and Mrs. Malfoy was quickly becoming an adept hostess.

"...I doubt she's remembered anything that doesn't concern seating arrangements," Scorpius finished with a sheepish smile, as he patted down his mussed hair.

The boy had been Albus's best mate for five years now, and despite James' best welcoming efforts (usually consisting of good-hearted teasing), it had taken almost all that time to get Scorpius to a semblance of comfortability with the rest of the Potters.

He was a rather quiet kid and probably one of the most serious people that James had ever met (which James usually liked to point out by more or less following this script: _"You gotta lighten up, Scorp, you're more serious than I am,," "..." "...and it's my middle name!" "..."_). But James also knew that he'd been a genuine friend to Al through the years, which always meant a lot given the crowd their last name usually attracted.

"Oh, yes," Ginny Potter said, coming up the kitchen stairs carrying a tray of warmed bread and butter. "I meant to ask you, Scorpius, does your mother need more art donated for the auction?"

Ginny set the tray on the table in front of the boys, before whirling around and taking a hefty pot of bolognese from James's dad, Harry, who'd followed her up from the kitchen. "We've still got that portrait of Walburga in the attic, and you know how I've been meaning to get rid of it for ages now."

Harry chuckled as he sunk down on the seat next to James. "I doubt anyone would want her, Gin. If anything, she'd probably cause an international diplomatic crisis."

Ginny narrowed her eyes and clacked her tongue in annoyance. "Well, it was worth a shot."

"I'll ask mum if she'd like any additional portraits, Mrs. Potter," Scorpius said amicably.

Ginny smiled at him. "Actually, we've also got some nice landscapes by Cassiopeia Black that I'm sure people would _actually_ like having…"

"Have you seen your sister, James?" his father asked, turning to him.

"Oh yeah, she was in her room on her Muggle mobile with Indira Natarajan when I passed by. She said she'd be down for dinner."

As if on cue, his younger sister's slender form appeared on the bannister just above them.

"Lily," his mother called as she began dishing out long lengths of pasta from the pot with a pair of tongs, "Come sit."

Lily sidled up to Ginny to peer at the contents of the pot, and James noted the two redhead's increasing resemblance. Lily had recently cut her hair to match their mother's shoulder length bob, but in a richer, darker red than Ginny's ginger orange hair. His sister also had gone through a rather explosive growth spurt at the beginning of the summer and was now nearing their mother's height.

"Oooh, yum," Lily said, before plopping down next to Albus and snagging a roll from his plate. Albus, having long ago resigned to his fate as the middle child, only rolled his eyes and took another from the tray and began buttering it.

Albus really had always been the most patient of the three Potter children, a disposition he shared, among many other things, with their dad. Most people described the 15 year old as a perfect carbon copy of the teenaged Boy-Who-Lived, and they'd be nearly right. Albus had inherited the Harry Potter classics - striking green eyes (along with terrible eyesight) under a mop of incurably messy jet-black hair. But he hovered a few inches shorter than Harry's tall and slender frame, and instead of a lightning-shaped scar, his forehead was dotted with the faint freckles that marked his Weasley side.

James himself also tended more towards his father's features. The 17-year-old was (proudly) the tallest in his family, gaining a hair of an inch on his dad just this past summer. His hair was not as dark as Harry or Albus's, but it was a rich dark umber color, which warmly complemented the hazel eyes and freckled skin he inherited from his mother. His dad had once told him that he had his namesake grandfather's long nose, which was met with much delight as James Sirius regarded James I as a personal hero.

Idle chatter bubbled up around the table as the family tucked into their dinner.

"How was work today, dad?"

Harry heaved a sigh, "Busy. The conference has got most of the ministry in a scramble, and the department's got its hands full coordinating auror guards across London."

"At least you're taking a break from raids," Ginny quipped.

"Honestly, dealing with dementors might actually be easier than appeasing angry diplomats. At least I know how to banish dementors."

James laughed. It was rare to see his dad be flustered by anything these days. After fighting in a war and leading raids against dark wizards for over 20 years, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement knew the best line of defense and exit strategy for everything. Everything, apparently, except political diplomacy. But James supposed that was more Aunt Hermione's forte.

"Oh, that reminds me, Scorpius, could you please remind me to send a memo to Robards tomorrow? He needs to be transferred to the Belgian entourage."

The blonde boy managed to mumble a yes through a mouth full of bread.

Down the table, Ginny and Lily were discussing preparations for the social events surrounding the conference.

"...Would I have time to go home change between the gala and the auction?" Lily was asking.

"Probably not, so just wear comfortable shoes for both?"

"Ugh, I haven't got any that match the blue dress though…"

"What about those white flats I got you last summer?"

"Those are actually really pinchy. I might just keep the extra pair in Rose's purse - she finally figured out that extension charm..."

James turned back to his brother and Scorpius sitting across from him. The two were just showing Harry the schedules and supplies lists Hogwarts had sent that morning.

"By the way, Scorpius. I heard you made Prefect. Congrats!"

Scorpius colored slightly at the echoes of congratulations from around the table and smiled, "Oh, thank you very much."

"D'you know who else got it?" James asked, attempting to twirl the remnants of his pasta on his fork.

"Uhm, I'm not sure who else in Slytherin. Probably…" Scorpius turned with a questioning gaze at Al, "...Miranda Fawcett?"

"Mmm, she's got the best grades of the Slytherin girls by far," Al nodded in agreement. "Rose made Gryffindor prefect because _of course_. And Louis made Ravenclaw because _of course_."

"I think Gemma's also got it for Ravenclaw," Scorpius added.

"Wow," Lily said with a low whistle, "Al, your friends are nerds."

Al laughed, "Tell me about it. At this rate, I'll have to sit with your friends on the ride to school."

"Nah, they'd probably not wanna sit with such a loser," Lily quipped, and Albus stuck his tongue out.

"Al's basically lined up to be Slytherin quidditch captain after Roman Pucey graduates this year though," Scorpius piped up, grinning at his friend. "...now that I've quit the team," he added cheekily.

Albus turned pink and furrowed his brows, "What are you on about? Did you forget that Margot exists?"

Scorpius chuckled in response.

"What? She's a year ahead and is our cleverest chaser."

"Yeah," Scorp rolled his eyes, "But MG's gunning for Head Girl next year, and she's likely to pass on captaincy in favor of it."

"Ohhh," Albus said with a nod of comprehension. "Well, there's still the Edgecombes..."

And so the rest of dinner at 12 Grimmauld Place passed the same way in clinking forks and pleasant chatter. Around 8pm, Scorpius politely excused himself, and after Harry had gently talked Ginny down from basically forcing Walburga's portrait on the boy, he stepped into the kitchen fireplace to floo back to his parent's home in Wiltshire.

"See you tomorrow, Scorp," Al said, and his friend waved back before disappearing in a burst of green flame.

Albus and James were on dish duty that night, as Kreacher had been feeling rather unwell the past few days. The elderly house-elf had been confined to his bed by Ginny for most of the week, but his absence at least had the unexpected perk that Ginny could set her children doing household chores for once.

James and Al didn't mind much. As they worked side by side in front of the wide copper sink, they sang along to some of their parent's favorite tapes. James had enchanted an old cassette player with a permanent _sonorous_ charm, and the Weird Sisters' _Do the Hippogriff_ reverberated loudly in the cavernous space of the basement kitchen.

"_Can you dance like a hippogriff nanana nanana nanana flying off from a cLIFF NANANA NANANA NANANA."_

The brothers howled along with Myron Wagtail's screeching vocals, splashing water everywhere. During the bridge, James made the unwise decision to use the sink's sprayer hose as a prop for an impromptu guitar solo, and both of the boys ended up thoroughly soaked by the time they had finished cleaning.

Sitting on the warm stone in front of fireplace, Albus giggled, pointing to a stray strand of spaghetti stuck in James's dripping hair.

As his brother reached up to pick it out, Albus started, "James…?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think… you're gonna move out after you graduate this year?"

James blinked at his brother surprisedly for a moment before turning his gaze toward the fire. After a few seconds, he said in contemplative tone, "...I'm not sure, Al… I barely have an idea of what I wanna do after Hogwarts."

"What do you mean? Aren't you still thinking about going pro?"

Playing professional quidditch had been James' dream since he was old enough to get on a broom, as Albus well knew.

"That was the plan… But I'm not sure. It's getting a lot more competitive, and loads of the British teams scout for players internationally now," James sighed.

Albus only nodded, knowing James had more on his mind to unload.

"I know I've got connections with mum, but I wanna get into a squad of my own accord, you know? Work my way up from a minor league or reserve team or something, instead of being scouted because someone wants a Potter on the roster."

Al hummed in agreement, knowing the feeling well. The Potter name in the wizarding world had given the siblings tons of privilege growing up, but as they got older, it became increasingly frustrating not to know where their successes were coming from. They never could be too sure about the value of their accomplishments as individuals under the weight of "The-Boy-Who-Lived".

"I don't know if I'm good enough to get in if it was just on pure talent," James said quietly, staring into the flames.

Al looked at his brother for a moment, before leaning sideways slightly to bump his shoulders. "From a_ quidditch-captain-to-be's_ perspective… I think you're a brilliant keeper."

James broke out into a smile, punching his arm teasingly, "Oh, so you _have_ let Malfoy inflate your head then! What happened to my sweet and humble Al? Is this what the prospect of power does to you Slytherins?"

Al broke out into laughter, waving his hands in defeat, "I take it back, I take it back!"

"You know I'd love to see your face if one of the Edgecombes actually gets the badge instead of you…"

"Merlin take me…"

The pair lapsed into a beat of silence. Then, "Hey Al? You know if I do move away, for quidditch training or something, I'd still come visit you and Lily and mum and dad all the time?"

"Yeah, I know… It's just…"

"...Yeah, I miss Teddy when he's away on trips, too."

"It was so weird going from seeing him almost every day to seeing him like, three times a year," Al said. Then, laughing, "Professional quidditch is only marginally a more real-person job than literal wizard Indiana Jones, so please promise me you won't disappear on me."

"Pinky swear. And if he's not back from Bulgaria by September, we're gonna take a portkey and drag him back from those mountains ourselves," James declared, holding out his finger.

Smiling, Albus linked his pinky with his brother's.

"Deal."

* * *

**August 9th, 2021  
****Malfoy Manor**

Despite all the cool things about having Harry Potter as a father, James thought, decidedly the _least_ cool thing about his life (at least how it felt at the moment) was being obliged to attend ministry parties.

His parents had been shuffling him, Al, and Lily to various official events all afternoon. James' feet ached from the pinchy set of dress shoes he'd picked out to wear with his tux. And he'd lost track of how many different officials' hands he'd shaken, how many times he'd been asked about his NEWTs and his post-graduation plans, how many times he'd been called "a handsome young man" (okay, that last one wasn't _so_ bad).

To his parents' credit, they had mostly held off on dragging the kids to the Ministry's extensive schedule of events this past week, with Harry usually opting to attend the galas and dinners alone, or occasionally with Ginny if things weren't too busy at the _Prophet_. But as it was the last official day of the EMU conference, all of the Potters were due for an appearance.

At least, James conceded, he had it marginally better than Rose and Hugo. He looked toward the huge crowd of people gathered toward the front of the Malfoy's ballroom, trying to make out Rose's distinctive mane of bushy red hair in the throngs.

His cousins were essentially the first kids of wizarding Britain, and they had stuck faithfully to their mother's side for most of the evening. James couldn't exactly tell if it was because of filial loyalty or if they genuinely couldn't escape the retinue of aurors and politicians that surrounded Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger, but James admired their fortitude regardless.

James continued scanning the ballroom, hoping to spot one of his siblings. He'd been whisked away nearly an hour ago by the enthusiastic Finbar Quigley, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, after he'd learned of James's interest in professional quidditch. James had only managed to extricate himself moments ago, after making several half-hearted promises to look into the trial dates for Quigley's former team, the Ballycastle Bats.

As his eyes wandered around, James recognized a few familiar faces dotted throughout the room. His father stood a little ways off, speaking to Former Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt and another tall middle-aged woman James didn't recognize. James also noted a few acquaintances from Hogwarts - Oscar Belby, a Slytherin in his year whose mother was on the Wizengamot; Eleanor Cooper, who played chaser for the Ravenclaw quidditch team and whose father was a Head Obliviator; and Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, sitting with Aunt Luna and Uncle Rolf, who was Head of the Magical Creatures Department. Unfortunately, Albus and Lily seemed to have wandered off long ago, and James crinkled his brow in annoyance.

For the most part, James stuck with his siblings during these types of events. He would have usually invited his cousin and best friend, Fred Weasley, along for company, but since that incident where Freddie unleashed a niffler on one of Aunt Hermione's fundraising dinners last year, he had been banned from attending official ministry events indefinitely.

Admittedly, it hadn't been one of Freddie's most well thought out schemes, but Uncle Rolf had been able to stun the creature fairly efficiently, only shortly after it had collected its twelfth belt buckle. However, the long-standing ban remained, and now James was left to stick out the pleasantries and pageantry alone. He mentally kicked himself. He ought to have at least invited Lewis or Archie…

In an effort to look a little less misplaced, James accepted a flute of effervescently bubbling liquid from a waiter before wandering towards the open set of double doors that led outside. A pleasantly cooling breeze hit him shortly before he stepped out onto the large balcony.

Extending out the back of Malfoy Manor, the terrace offered a lovely view of the elaborate gardens that surrounded the chateaux-style home. A glassy reflecting pool surrounded by dozens of snowy white rose bushes glinted with the bright house lights, and further back in the garden atop a walled maze, the ghostly figure of a white peacock glowed in the pale moonlight.

The balcony itself was nearly as quiet as the gardens. Most guests had begun gathering inside for the start of the auction, but spotting the unmistakable brick red of his sister's hair, James sighed in relief.

Gathered around in the corner by the balustrade were Lily, Albus, Scorpius, and a pretty blonde witch who James recognized as Scorpius's cousin, Margot Beauregard. Lily was holding a small bundle in her arms, and the others were clustered around her, speaking in quiet tones.

Curious, James approached the group slowly. Scorpius spotted him first and nodded towards him, causing Albus to turn around and wave him over.

"Hey, you got away from Quigley," Albus said, congratulatory.

"I think I accidentally signed my soul away to the Ballycastle Bats for my freedom though," James sighed wearily.

"James!" Lily whispered excitedly, "Come look at what Aunt Luna gave me for my birthday."

His sister's birthday had just passed two days ago, and knowing Lily's magizoologist god-mother's track record, the "present" was likely to be something that was alive, furry, and possibly a little dangerous.

James could feel the creature before he even got a good look at it - the air immediately surrounding the group was about 10 degrees warmer than the cool night air. Curious, James peered over Albus's shoulder to get a better look.

"...Is that... a cat?"

Lily beamed, holding the tiny bundle out for James's inspection. Swaddled up in a woolen blanket, a small feline animal was sleeping. Its fur was a most peculiar coloring, a blazing bright orange James had never seen on a creature before. Wrapped around its curled form was a bushy tail, larger than its whole body and ringed with deep red stripes.

"It's a firecat," Lily said proudly, "Aunt Luna found an abandoned litter on her trip to Hokkaido."

"What's a- ...is it... _glowing_?"

Lily had shifted slightly away from the light of one of the ballroom windows, and it became quite apparent in the evening shadows. The kitten was giving off the faintest orange glow, reminiscent of the embers of a cooling fire.

"Mhmmm," Lily said adoringly, "She's only a kitten, but apparently their fur is supposed to get much brighter when they get older. They're supposed to be able to give off much more heat too."

James had already started warming considerably in the creatures' presence.

"Leave it to Aunt Luna to gift you a literal walking fire hazard… and bring it to you during a ministry event."

"Oh, they're quite safe as long as they're trained properly!" Albus piped, "Aunt Luna promised mum she wouldn't burn the house down… as long as we keep her away from the curtains for a few months."

James laughed incredulously, "And mum went along with it?"

"How could she say no to that face?"

Albus grinned with a vague nod, and James was unsure if his brother was talking about the firecat, their sister, or both. Most people already found it difficult to say no to Lily Potter. The 13-year-old was brimming with too much charm for her own good, and that coupled with the adorable orange face now sleepily blinking up at the group - James could see why his mum didn't have a chance.

Lily was cooing gently and slowly rocking the thing in her arms.

"James, Aunt Luna says it looks like me!" she whispered proudly and a little smugly, "She said it's funnier and cuter when pets look like their owners... Well, unless their pet is a changeling. In which case 'you must immediately call her or Uncle Rolf, to take preventative actions against getting carried away by fairies'… _Anyway_, don't you think it looks like me?"

James laughed, "It's very cute, Lils… And very… uh, _red_."

He heard a small snicker to his left and glanced over curiously.

Margot Beauregard was perched on the balustrade. James had almost forgotten she was there - her trailing grey dress and pin straight posture nearly made her pass for one of the Malfoy's garden ornaments.

But her nose was buried in an enormous and explosively colorful volume - '_Fantastic Beasts of East Asia_ by Luna Scamander', it said in glaring yellow script . It was the latest edition, and James presumed it had been gifted along with the firecat.

Margot barely passed him a glance when she looked up at his sister, "Apparently firecats are quite popular pets at Mahoutokoro, Lily. Mrs. Scamander writes that 'they're a cost-effective way to heat the dorms.'"

Albus and Scorpius both snorted at this.

"Wouldn't it be warm enough there already, with the school being on an actual volcano and all…?"

They exchanged bemused looks, but Lily had already started prattling excitedly at the mention of bringing her new pet to _school_.

"_Oooh_, I hadn't even thought about Hogwarts..! My roommates would love her! And Alice is _always_ complaining about how our room is too cold in the winter. She could sleep in the middle of our beds... like a furnace, but cuter…!"

As if on cue, the cat hopped from Lily's arms and began pacing the center of their huddle, blowing little puffs of white smoke from its mouth. Every time its long tail swished past James, he noted that it did actually feel like he were standing next to a small furnace. In the coolness of the night, the creature's warmth felt quite comforting. The others must have thought the same, as they all hushed for a few moments, admiring the creature's movements.

"I've decided to name her Ginger by the way," Lily said with finality after a beat of silence. The cat blinked up at them and mewed. Somehow James doubted that was for approval, but Lily grinned anyway.

"Aw see, she likes it!"

"Don't you think she's hungry, Lily?" Albus said, looking at her amusedly, "Did Aunt Luna tell you what to give her?"

"Oh shoot, no she didn't…"

"That's alright, I can go fetch her. I see her right there by the banquet table…"

Albus was peering in through one of the windows. Aunt Luna was on the other side of the ballroom, loitering by the desserts and holding a tubular glass contraption that James had learned to recognize as one of her patented Blibbering Humdinger Detectors.

He grinned to himself, comforted in knowing that his Yorkshire pudding would be Humdinger-free tonight.

"Scorp, d'you mind coming with? Maybe we'll be able to grab something from your mum's kitchens…" Albus said, making to head inside.

"Oh, yeah, sure… We could ask one of the house elves or something...?"

* * *

While they waited for the two younger boys to return, Lily, James, and Margot walked Ginger down to the lower gardens. Glow worms had started appearing in the grass, and the group entertained themselves by watching the cat pounce after the tiny light beetles. Ginger was surprisingly fast for her tiny size, springing across the garden with ease, and soon enough, Lily was chasing after them too, laughing as she ran with her new pet.

That left James alone with Margot on the lawn, and the two of them lapsed into a silence long enough that it began to make him jittery. Unconsciously, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he thought of a thing to say, making the pinchiness of his dress shoes worse.

James rarely had trouble talking to people - his parent's older friends often told him that he had the liquid charm of his other namesake, Sirius Black.

But he only knew Margot vaguely from playing quidditch against her or through the passing comments he'd hear from Al or Scorpius... He knew that she was one of Scorpius's only two cousins... that she was a prefect in the year below him for Slytherin house... and that her dad was in the ministry, as she frequently made appearances at these parties.

And that was about it.

Margot had always given off the distinct impression of being a little... _straight-laced_, and James, a well-known prankster and rabble rouser, figured it was best to keep out of her hair during these kinds of events. So despite James's usually outgoing nature, he had to admit he found her a little intimidating to talk to.

"So. You're getting recruited by Ballycastle then?"

James started out of his thoughts and looked over at the girl in surprise. She'd sat down on a bench, her gaze still out across the garden, following Lily and Ginger as they traipsed into the rose bushes. James had been standing there pondering if Margot would even talk to him, and yet, she'd spoken so casually in a way that he couldn't.

He hadn't noticed he'd been gaping until she cleared her throat, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Oh, sorry, did you not want to talk about it?" she said politely, suddenly meeting his eyes, "I know those kinds of deals can be a little hush-hush... And my mother says I'm always a bit too forward with people."

"Huh? Oh no. No, sorry… It's just… We've never talked before... I don't think," said James, unsure why he was babbling.

Margot nodded understandingly, "We could just sit and continue to not talk if you'd like."

She smiled at him amicably, but there was a slight lilt to her voice, and James couldn't quite tell if he was being made fun of or not.

"No, no! We should talk! Let's… Sorry."

James hoped the high collar of his dress shirt would mask the flush creeping up his neck. Pausing to let his tongue unwind itself, he shot her his best grin and stuck his hand out.

"Hi, I'm James. What was the question again?"

"Margot," she said, taking his hand and giving it two good shakes, "I was asking if you'd gotten scouted already. You mentioned it earlier."

"Scouted for quidditch? Oh, Merlin, no…" James laughed incredulously, "I could only wish I was getting scouted this early. Mr. Quigley was just suggesting I look into Ballycastle's tryout schedules."

"Oh, I see…" Margot said, nodding her head, "...Well, I'd be unsurprised even if teams were calling after you already."

"Ah well, I'm not that good. Mostly the League just waits for people to come to them nowadays, you know," he rebutted easily.

James was used to frequent praise, and some would say he even basked in it, but he knew when it was deserved and when it wasn't. His hand was on the back of his neck now, feeling the warmth from the blush.

Margot hummed, her gaze trailing from his again, "D'you have any teams you're looking into? Other than Ballycastle."

"Oh- well, the Bats aren't actually my first choice… But I'm not exactly sure where else I'd like to look," he replied sheepishly.

"But I'm sure you've got favorites in the league?"

James smiled. "Well yes... I mean, you probably know from Al that our family's a little nuts for the Chudley Cannons nowadays. After the Harpies of course, but I can't exactly play for them, though I suppose I could try wearing a ginger wig to tryouts."

"Oh, they'd never know the difference," Margot deadpanned, and James, a bit surprised she'd volleyed the jest, flashed her a grin. He was glad that the subject was on quidditch, a topic for which he had a nearly inexhaustible amount of words, no matter who he was talking to.

"Falmouth and Puddlemere both have really solid programs for keepers, so I'd love to get to train with them, too," he continued more confidently now, "But they're really competitive to get into, and any half-serious keeper's probably gonna be going after the same spots."

Margot nodded thoughtfully, "Bell and Llewellyn… They're graduating, too… Are they trying for pro as well?"

"I'm not sure about Natalia," said James, before scrunching his nose in displeasure, "But Caleb… definitely."

Margot only smirked, well aware (as the rest of the school populace) of the enmity that simmered behind his words.

Three out of the four starting keepers from the house teams would be 7th Years come September. And James begrudgingly knew that they were all rather good. Natalia Bell, Ravenclaw's keeper, was as clever as she was nice. Her mum had played with James' dad back at Hogwarts, and in the few classes that she and James shared, they got on quite well.

However, the same could not be said about Caleb Llewellyn. As both keepers and captains for their house teams, James was often compared to the Hufflepuff, much to their mutual displeasure. Probably largely because of this, the two had developed a bitter rivalry on the quidditch field and an even fiercer one off it.

"...How's Slytherin looking this season by the way? I hear you're in the market for a new keeper."

James was partially eager to change the subject, but also partially eager to do a little probing.

Aside from the Hufflepuff drama, the Slytherins were their biggest competition on the pitch. But even though he lived with Al, his brother tended to be… extremely secretive about his own house team. James hadn't even gotten a flash of a training regimen all summer, and he only just found out about Scorpius's departure last week. Slytherin's notorious secrecy only fed into James's natural curiosity, and it wasn't just because Gryffindor had lost the House Cup to them last year (he swore).

Margot laughed.

"Are you offering? I'd love to tell Scorpius that we've replaced him with _James Potter._"

James chuckled, the effortless evasion in her response not lost on him. But he decided to play along anyway.

"No, thanks. I'm on contract with the Gryffindors for a while longer."

"Mm… If you ever change your mind, we've got competitive salary and full benefits."

"That's tempting," James laughed, "All we've got is the occasional free dungbomb from Fred when Weasley's overstocks."

"Well, how could anyone say no to that?"

James grinned at her, deciding that the girl wasn't as uptight as he thought at all. He wasn't sure if Margot was being intentionally funny, but he liked her frankness regardless.

"...We're probably pulling someone up from reserves," she conceded after a moment.

"Ah!" James said, surprised and happy at the small crumbs she'd thrown him, "Who?"

"-Is he weeding Slytherin team secrets from you?" came Al's voice suddenly from the terrace above them, "We've only gone 10 minutes, MG, I thought you were stronger than that."

Margot rolled her eyes as Albus and Scorpius came around the stairs to meet them.

"Oh no, I've accidentally divulged that we are, in fact, getting new keeper to replace Scorpius. How could I have been so loose-lipped?"

"Don't underestimate him, MG. He's been 'casually hanging out' in my room all summer trying to sweep for my playbook."

"Hey, no I haven't-!"

_(He had.)_

"Anyway, listen, Margot," Albus plowed on, turning his nose up slightly, "These Gryffindors, they're desperate for the Cup. And remember - we're defending our Slytherin Pride."

"..."

"..."

"...God, your Pucey impression has gotten scary good."

The three Slytherins let out simultaneous snorts of laughter, and James knew there was a joke in there somewhere that was completely lost on him. He unsurely laughed along, glancing between the three, until his eyes landed on the small saucer of steaming red liquid that Scorpius held in his hands.

"What's that? And where's Aunt Luna?"

"Aunt Luna's busy extracting Humdingers from the berry cobbler. But she said to give Ginger steamed milk and hot peppers."

"Okay…"

"So we raided the spice cupboard and found a can of pickled jalapenos and a jar of cayenne powder…"

"...And you_ mixed it in_ with the milk?"

"Are you sure that's what she meant for you to do?"

"Well… She didn't elaborate much."

The two 5th year boys exchanged looks and shrugged. The steam from their volatile concoction blew towards James and began to make his eyes sting.

"_Uhm-" _he began, rubbing his eyes and coughing, but he was interrupted with a tiny mewl from their feet.

Ginger had bounded back across the garden and was now pawing eagerly at Scorpius's feet. He paused for a moment, looking around at the others in the group, but only Albus gave him a small, hesitant shrug.

Tentatively, the blonde boy knelt down and carefully placed the bowl in the grass. The firecat only stopped to give it a cursory sniff before enthusiastically sticking _her entire face _in the piping hot liquid.

"_Oh-"_

"Wait-!"

"What-"

"_Ginger!"_ Lily gasped, immediately dropping to her knees to check on the cat. She had only just rejoined the group now, belatedly realizing her playmate had abandoned her in the hedge maze.

A second of astonished and horrified silence passed.

And then, Ginger looked up at them with a small pip, her tail swishing happily behind her. She looked positively horrifying, her tiny face dripping with viscous, blood red liquid. But she seemed perfectly content, dipping her head once more to lap enthusiastically at the milk.

"She… likes it?" Albus said confusedly, despite being the one who created the horrifying concoction. But this was going much better than anyone would have expected from five teenagers and a small fire-breathing mammal at that they had been given little to no information on.

"Uh… Yeah, that works, I guess?" James said unsurely, "...But maybe… we should go double check with Aunt Luna.. just in case..."

Hums of agreement sounded around the group but no one made a move as they were all transfixed by the strange little creature. The firecat was draining the milk bowl with surprising speed and voracity.

"By the way, MG," Scorpius said, suddenly, "Aunt Daphne's looking for you, you know."

"Hm?" Margot said distractedly. She was studying Ginger intently, as if looking for signs that the cat may burst into flames at any second, which James found highly relatable.

"You're meant to help her and my mum hand out bidding cards."

"Oh... _Oh_ damn - I'd forgotten… I should go before she blows a can..."

"She's in the atrium."

"...Can you lot manage?"

James noticed that she'd more directed the question at him than at the group in general, and belatedly, he realized that as the eldest, he was technically the one in charge here. Admittedly, he mourned the loss of the only other _NEWT_ student in case of anything disastrous happening, but Ginger seemed to be… fine... So instead of voicing this, he just produced his wand from his back pocket and gave it a little reassuring wave.

_He could handle this_, he meant to express, but Margot just raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'll find Mrs. Scamander on my way in and send her out."

With that, she said hasty goodbyes to everyone before picking up her the long skirts of her gown and disappearing around the corner and up the balcony stairs.

A few minutes ticked by, and their small group waited for Ginger to finish her strange meal over idle chatter about the upcoming year. Lily was trying out for quidditch, Scorpius was taking nine O.W.L.s, Albus was already exhausted from just listening to them…

Then from inside the ballroom, Aunt Hermione's steady, amplified voice wafted out to the gardens.

"Firstly, I would like to thank everyone for this past week of communication, compromise, and camaraderie. It has been a pleasure working amongst such esteemed colleagues and friends…"

Ginger was nearly at the bottom of her bowl now, and James allowed his mind to wander a bit as he listened to the opening remarks.

Not that Aunt Hermione's speech was boring or anything - she was actually an excellent speaker. But it was just, whenever James saw his aunt nowadays, he couldn't help but think about her face last Christmas when that niffler pulled some crown jewels clean off of the Queen of Norway's neck.

The memory automatically brought a smile to James's face, and vaguely he wondered what Freddie was doing at the moment. Likely messing around in the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes workshop back in London… Working on some new joke sweets or fireworks... and probably in significantly more comfy shoes than what James was wearing, too…

"...with representatives from not only over 30 different countries, but also participation from 15 non-human delegations, I am happy to say that this year's conference has also been the most inclusive in recent history..."

There was a lull in the speech as Aunt Hermione paused for a round of applause, and James absentmindedly clapped along.

As he did, he heard the tiniest sneeze.

He looked down at Ginger. The cat was lightly rubbing her face with a tiny paw, apparently having accidentally gotten a bit of pepper milk in her snout. Honestly, James had been wondering how she had managed not to do that earlier - Ginger's face was totally soaked in red, and it was now staining her paws, too.

Despite the visual, Lily cooed at the sight, squishing her face with her own hands.

"_Aw, that's so cu-"_

But then, Ginger let out a second, much louder sneeze. This time, tiny sparks flew from her mouth, and they all sprang back to avoid the tiny embers threatening to ruin their expensive dress shoes.

"Well that's - um -" James said, flinching in alarm as the third sneeze ricocheted from the tiny creature, eliciting smoke and a few tongues of actual fire, _"-a problem."_

Despite being in the midst of a violent sneezing fit, Ginger alone seemed to be having a grand time. She began bounding towards Lily, as if asking to be picked up again, and his sister panickedly hitched up her skirts, leaping away from yet another scorching sneeze. Unfortunately, the cat seemed to take that as a game, pouncing after Lily and into the garden.

Into the garden filled with many, many flammable bushes.

In that moment, as he ran headlong into the hedge maze after them, an _aguamenti_ charm already set on his lips, James thought it might have been better for Aunt Hermione to have extended that blanket ban on most of her nieces and nephews, and not just Freddie.

He just hoped the Norwegian Royal family wasn't in attendance again.

* * *

_Hello! I hope you enjoyed this first introduction to James. Dunno if you can tell, but he is one of my favorite characters to write :) Also, yes, in this au, the Norwegian Royals are wizards. Not exactly important, but just for fun._


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